


Cake

by MiladyPheonix



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25935586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiladyPheonix/pseuds/MiladyPheonix
Summary: because Cake.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m craving cake today so Sherlock is too. Not johnlock, just Sherlock being Sherlock. Posted this for my patreons today but sharing it here too.   
> I have updated the tags because this will now have Chapters. I had too much fun with the 1st installment. my current Mystrade WIP remains on Patreon.

John measured 4 tablespoons of flour into a second mug and sighed. “Technically sugar is considered a wet ingredient John, it dissolves.” “You don’t have to eat it.” He moved the mug away from himself but a long pale hand slid it back towards him for the requisite 2 tablespoons of cocoa powder. “Mrs Hudson is away, Of course I’ll eat it John, even if you don’t make it correctly.” A cup was placed deliberately on the counter next to him, 4 tablespoons of sugar, 3 each of oil and milk and an egg were all whisked thoroughly in the cup. Sherlock then delicately poured it over the flour mixture and handed the mug back to John who stirred vigorously. 

“You just want cake.” Sherlock rolled his eyes internally as John stated the obvious. He had cleaned the microwave, washed the dishes, and inventoried the pantry… Of course he wanted cake! And with Mrs Hudson away the only option was the ridiculous trend John had found, or Molly had told him about, Mug Cake, it sounded juvenile but the chemistry seemed to work. 2 minutes in the clean - not that John had noticed - microwave. Then they needed to cool and be iced, he wasn’t going to have dry cake. 

John vacated the kitchen with a steaming hot cake in his largest mug. Sherlock had been going on about cooling, and icing, and sprinkles but John couldn’t be bothered until Sherlock sailed passed him 20 minutes later with coffee and a spectacle of confectionery. Coffee coloured buttercream icing had been piped into a towering swirl and… it glittered. “Sherlock?” “It's not like you were going to use it.” “Body glitter does not belong on a cake Sherlock.” “It’s edible.” 

Sherlock smirked to himself as the colour rose in John’s face, he had found the abandoned glitter in the lounge after the Christmas party, it would seem John’s boring girlfriend hadn’t felt obliged to take her gift with her after she left him so he had put it in the kitchen where edible things belonged. “And the piping bag? Did you have to pretend to be a baker for a case?” “Mummy.” “What?” “Mummy taught us both how to bake, though I can’t say she did Mycroft any favours in doing so. He picked up 15 pounds that holiday.” 

John stifled a laugh as Sherlock sank a fork into his cake. Mycroft's weight had always been an issue between the brothers but John could see it now. The brothers as little boys, covered in flour and dropping bits of egg shell as Mrs Holmes tries to corral them or maybe they worked together, possibly for the first and last time in their lives. 


	2. Cake!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft's turn

There was a war on and contrary to his brother’s opinion he had not started it. That orange buffoon of a president had not put his people into lock down, or even handled the virus responsibly at all! So the war was against an invisible enemy that half of the American population did not believe existed, unfortunately because of America’s cultural influence this means that lots of people outside the USA believed the same thing. 

Mycroft had rolled his eyes in the privacy of his office after the poll stats had come in. Who could believe that over 800 000 people had what, dropped dead of their own accord? It was unfathomably stupid and there was only one remedy for this level of stress. Making his way into the kitchen he dropped the grocery bags on the table before heading upstairs to change. 

Taking a deep breath he began, measuring liquids, weighing solids, and of course, dissolving the sugar into the other wet ingredients slowly ate up his evening and eased the tension he was carrying. Method and measure had always been calming, so he indulged. The cakes would take time to bake, which gave him time to clean up and they could cool while he ate dinner. 

A good gateau took time to prepare and required a lot of chocolate. Carefully slicing the cakes horizontally Mycroft separated the layers and spritzed them with an orange liquor before spreading sweet buttercream between them. A bittersweet chocolate spread was smoothed over the result with a dark drizzle to finish. He then put the whole thing in the fridge before heading off to bed. 

…

Anthea’s eyes widened as she watched her boss carefully carry the decadent confection to the break room for the staff, today was going to be a long day. Mycroft was already baking and that usually took a royal scandal or his little brother to trigger but she managed a polite nod as he set a slice of cake on her desk and carried his own passed her without a word. 

She knew what to do though, he served the cake so she needed to get them both coffee. They would have this moment of shared quiet to simply drink coffee and enjoy a treat then undoubtedly they would have to deal with the hell that had broken loose somewhere. Her money was on some kind of Coronavirus issue but that was hardly a risky bet. 

Why was he in politics when he could bake like an angel, she could never understand that. She was sure Sherlock had something to do with it but the world was missing out on Something! Cake mornings were never to be rushed, she was not expected to bolt down her food to continue working and the treat wound down pleasantly as she scraped up the last crumbs and tipped back her last sip of coffee. 

Then there was a sigh from the office behind her and she knew the day had to start now. 


End file.
